All For The Best
by Oh-Juice
Summary: Finn Hudson lives in a nearly broke household, and can't stop thinking about a very wealthy, yet very strange girl named Rachel Berry. Finchel. Rated T for now - Language. Might change in later chapters.
1. The Girl in the Pink Rubber Boots

_Trying fanfic again! Haha. Please leave me reviews... I'd really appreciate it, since I don't do this often, and rarely ever finish fanfic because it's hard for me to write. Currently listening to "All For The Best" by Godspell, which is half of what __possessed me to start writing this. (: Look up the lyrics if you'd like! Anyways, here it is; chapter one. _

_Thank you so much to Nadya and MezMaroon8 who helped me a lot with this!_

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><p>The back of the bike's tires left a blazing trail along the mud and dirt packed sidewalks. In the spring, you were lucky if you could get from one place to another any sort of way, considering all of the slush and dirt buildup in the roads, let alone trying to bike from place to place, and if Finn had any other option, you bet he'd be using it. His mom was using the car to go to one of her odd jobs, and being in the situation they were in money-wise, he couldn't just spend his money on anything, let alone that beautiful blue piece of junk that he had his eye on ever since he passed it at Burt's auto-shop a year or so before. He stopped in weekly to ask about if it had any offers. Every week he asked, Burt would always reply with the same no, and Finn would nod, stare at the 1983 ford truck for a while, then leave.<p>

Burt was a nice guy, as far as Finn could tell. He didn't seem to mind Finn's halfhearted conversation whenever he'd stop by. Sometimes he'd ask about Finn's mom, but he would just shrug and say she was fine- that they were fine.

They weren't as fine as he said they were a lot of the time. They weren't actually doing that good at all; sure, they had an alright relationship. In fact, Finn would do just about anything for his mother, and it was no secret. She was the best mother he could ask for; he was pretty sure she'd do anything for him too. He was mama's boy at heart.

That wasn't the problem though. It was money. When it came to their finances, they weren't doing nearly as good as they all hoped they'd be doing by now. They didn't have two people bringing in salaries, since his father passed away in the war when he was just weeks old, so he could never really get everything he wanted. He'd have to give up a nice bike or maybe a toy that he wanted in a store when he was younger. Finn was used to making sacrifices; he didn't complain or frown when things got hard. He was brought up with a good work ethic, and was just happy with what he got. He even worked after school at the local pizza place, and 80% went to his mom and the house, while 20% went to him and his "hot-rod fund".

After digging himself out of a ditch, Finn had brushed the dirt off of his jacket and quickly composed himself. At school, he was still where he'd always been; he was still popular as could be, and still dating Quinn Fabray, which just knocked his status up even higher. His popularity meant a lot to him, since it was one of the things he could just keep in check without really trying. He just had to say the right things and keep his usual attitude; nobody really noticed his lack of expensive clothes since rugged and worn was in anyways, so the rips and tears in his jeans were acceptable and such. As long as he never brought anyone home to where he lived (right then, it was with their grandparents; he slept on the couch), then he could keep that, at least.

"I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees..." Finn sang to himself under his breath as he parked his bike outside of the old-style pizza joint. "I went down to the cross roads, fell down on my knees, askin' lord for mercy, help me if you please." After one more brush of his shoulders he finally got the packed dirt off of the fabric of his sweatshirt, and was just as he was about to walk in when someone caught the corner of his eye.

He'd seen her before, but not enough for them to be considered acquaintances; sometimes he'd ask her a question in math class or nod a hello when their glances crossed, but besides that, they'd never had any sort of contact. She was the girl who wore sweaters and those plaid skirts that barely met the bottom of her thighs, as if it were actually warm enough to be wearing something like that. He had math with her, Spanish with her... They just never seemed to speak, since he was higher up on the social food chain than she was.

He wondered about her sometimes; people said that she was crazy. He'd heard stories about her threatening to choke a girl with a microphone cord if she didn't get a singing part in the show choir she was in, but he was pretty sure that was just a rumor; she didn't look mean. She had these really deep brown eyes, and he knew that if someone was bad, you could totally see it in their eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul, right? At least, he thought that was the quote. He wasn't getting the best English grade though, so he wouldn't make a bet on it.

"Finn Hudson," She said quietly with a small smile and a nod, almost as if she was nervous. She had this knee-length jacket and a usual plaid skirt on. Finn looked down. Rain boots. Bright pink rain boots. Hm. He still didn't know what to think of this girl. He looked back up to see her blink at him with a confused expression. It was like looking in a mirror. "I thought it might rain," She explained. "I didn't expect to see you here... Where are the others?"

"Others?" Finn asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

"The jocks." Oh. He nodded his head in recognition; it was weird to think of himself as a unit sometimes. Why wasn't he ever just Finn? It was always "Finn the football player" or "Finn the Quarterback"... Not that he minded most of the time, because most of the time it was a good thing. This time though, the way the girl said it made Finn think that it wasn't meant as a good thing.

"I came alone." He replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. This girl was starting to creep him out; wasn't she being a little bit... Insertive? "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure that they weren't around slushie me in the halls, and I would really much rather not have to interact with people like that. I'm almost completely sure that you haven't slushied me though." She half-smiled before adding, "I'm Rachel Berry... I doubt you knew my name."

"I did," He lied, putting on a polite smile. He paused. "Are you here alone?" He asked, since she'd asked him basically the same thing. He wasn't completely sure why he'd asked. Curiosity was all he could come up with. Rachel Berry. He liked that last name; Berry. It reminded him of boysenberry pie, and he loved boysenberry pie.

"Well... Yes, I am." She replied. "I heard that they sell vegan pizza here. I was on my way home from school, so I decided to check it out, since I didn't want to forget by the time I got home." She paused, and bit her lip lightly, apparently realizing that she was rambling. Except he was still in tune with the conversation, believe it or not.

Finn replied almost instantly; "The vegan pizza is 3.45 a slice plus tax. If you want a whole pie, it's like, 12.30 for a 14 inch one, I think. Either that or 12.40." He felt Rachel's eyes on him and he felt his face go white. "I... Go here for pizza a lot." He tried to hide his job as best he could. Actually, 90% of his home-life was a complete secret from just about everyone he knew. This Rachel girl was no exception.

"Oh," Rachel answered, clearly taken a bit aback by his quick answer, and started to turn back on her heel. "Then I'll just.. Okay. Thank you, Finn. It was nice seeing you out of school." She looked at him for a little longer than he expected her to before starting to walk in the direction of her house.

'Wait-" Finn started. This girl- Rachel- he didn't know what was possessing him to talk to her. She was just... Different. She was different than girls he'd met before. The weirdest part is that he barely knew anything about her, and he still knew that she wasn't just another person looking at him like he was another JV jock or another girl looking for a home to wreck. She was different. He could tell. He was going to offer to buy her a slice, but then remembered the fact that he was saving every last penny. He opened his mouth and then closed it for a few seconds before finally shifting his weight to the other foot and letting out a breath. "Do you want someone to walk you home? It's getting late." He could spare a few minutes before delivering pizzas; he was early anyways.

Rachel's face lit up hesitantly. "S- sure," She responded with a smile. They started to walk together, their footsteps matching rhythmically as they did. Their eyes were on the ground in front of them, and they didn't speak for a while; they just walked with their shoulders a foot or so apart from one another's, Finn's hands shoved into his pockets and Rachel's clasped together firmly as she pursed her lips. She paused before finally speaking with a hidden fond look towards him; "Tell me about yourself, Finn."

"You know about me," Finn responded smiling lightly and kicking a stone with his foot as he walked down the Lima neighborhood. It was a pretty small place; everyone was almost within walking distance of each others houses. "I'm Finn."

Rachel almost rolled her eyes. "I know that you're Finn, star Quarterback of McKinley High School, but I don't know anything else about you. You can't tell me that's all there is to you." He looked back at her like she'd just given him a present, his lips curved up into a small smile and his eyes tracing hers.

He didn't think anyone had ever asked him something like that. It was exactly what he'd longed to hear from someone. "Yeah?" Was all he could come up with to say with a small laugh under his breath as he looked back to the horizon in front of him. "I... I like to play video games. And cars are pretty cool... I don't know how to really answer that though. Can you like, ask me something more specific?"

Rachel looked down to her hands. "How about we ask questions back and forth? Get to know each other better."

"I'd like that." He admitted.

"Good... Okay. First... What do you aspire to do?"

"Aspire... Like dream of doing? When I'm older?" He paused for a long while. He thought over his options, over what was theoretically possible for him to do in the near future. He thought over Quinn and he thought over his job at the pizza place and he thought about his family... And finally, he let out a lame shrug. "I... I donno." His eyebrows knit together a little, but he dropped it. "What about you?"

"I'm going to be a star," She responded immediately. "A Broadway star, actually. I have it all planned out." He felt her look go a little harder as his eyebrows raised amusingly. "I can sing," She assured him, "And I know how to get into the business and how to play my cards right... I've been taking lessons and classes since I could talk and walk, and I can promise you that by the time I'm twenty five, I'll be a well-established idol. I'll be the next Barbra Streisand." the way she spoke about it was clearly passionate.

"Who's Barbra Streisand?"

She stared at him. "Who's Barbra... Are you joking?" He shook his head. She shook her own head disappointedly, which forced him to suddenly wonder why she was wasting her time on him. If she was so gung-ho about this like she said she was, then why would she be talking to some Jock? Where were her musical friends?. "Never Mind. Well, Finn, next question. Who's your idol?"

"Peyton Manning"

From Rachel's silence as they continued to walk, though he didn't look to see her face, he guessed that she didn't know who that was. "He's a football player." Finn had better reasons than that for looking up to him, of course, but he didn't want to bore her or anything. He guessed that football wasn't really her thing, and unlike how she'd go on about whatever she was talking about if she was passionate (not that he really minded; it was just hard to keep up with), Finn on the other hand kept it short and sweet. He paused. "And Ringo Starr. He's really cool."

"The Beatles," She murmured with a nod, and he nodded himself. "Do you play drums?" He smiled a little and nodded his head. "I took lessons for a while," He replied humbly.

"How long?"

"From when I was like eight up until a year ago."

"Oh wow. That's quite a while." She sounded a little bit surprised. He apparently didn't come off as a musical person. He looked back to her with a little bit of amusement. His eyes traced her outline as she walked along with him, her ballet flats making little clicks against the pavement. He got a little bit lost looking at her before almost tripping and catching himself. She laughed. He laughed. "You should join the Jazz Band. They'd love to have another drummer; plus, you could help out Glee club when we needed someone to-"

"Uh," He cut in, turning a little white. "I don't think so. Its not really my... Uh. Not really my thing." He of course meant that he didn't need the social pressure against him, but he was being nice about it. He just shook his head. "Sorry." They continued to walk. He could sense her eyebrows pulling together and her lips locking tight. She wasn't happy with that decision, and she wasn't laying it on thin either. He could feel those chick-batty vibes from a mile away. As he was walking, he heard her stop, and walked a few more steps before doing a double take and stopping himself. He looked back to her with a confused expression.

"This is my house," Rachel explained simply and he blinked, looking up to the beautiful house. It wasn't that it was big or that it was fancy, it was just... nice. The way that the paint was perfectly brushed onto the sides without a chip, and the way that he could see curtains protruding from the glass with perfectly matched colors to the theme inside... He took a second before noticing that his mouth was a little slack-jawed. Shit. "Would you like to come in?" She asked, sounding a little more nervous than she had a minute ago before her confidence kicked in and she continued. "I could try to see if we have any snacks suitable for your tastes; my fathers and I all have a vegan cuisine, but we usually keep non-vegan snacks around in case I might by chance bring someone like yourself over, or they have company. If not, we have some nice vegan crackers or some carrots and dip if you'd pre-"

Finn continued to stare at the house, his jaw hardening just a little. He bet she never had to work a day in her life. It didn't make him angry per say... Or even jealous. It made him feel a little insecure in comparison though. He shook his head before she could finish her sentence, suddenly realizing that he was late. "My mom told me to be home by six," He lied, shaking his head. His boss was going to kill him. "But... This was cool. Getting to know you." He admitted, and he saw her features soften the slightest bit, being replaced by a small cute smile.

"I had a good time too... We should do this again. I mean, maybe not walk back to my house, but..." She tried to come up with a word for whatever they just did... Could she really not come up with one? She seemed like a walking dictionary. Maybe she just didn't have that much experience with, er, friends. "Conversing."

"Hanging out?" He suggested, a small half-grin crossing his features. "Yeah, sure. I mean, as long as I don't have football or anything, then I'm cool to chill most days... How about this Friday? We could meet at Franklyn park at like... Three-ish?" This whole time, it'd completely slipped his mind that he had a girlfriend. It didn't matter so much, did it? He was allowed to have girls as friends... What was he, a prisoner? Of course not. He could do this. No problem. He nodded his head. "If that's cool with you."

"Of course it's alright with me. See you then, Finn Hudson." She smiled brighter, a big mega-watt smile that he didn't think he'd see outside of an ad for teeth whitener. "Bye, Rachel... Berry?" She nodded her head, still smiling, and he smiled back wearily and glanced away before starting on back to the Pizzeria. She seemed nice enough, even though she talked a whole lot more than he was used to and she was admittedly a little weird.. He was just so confused by her. Not because of the big words she used, but why he was so attracted to her... Not like he thought she was good looking (even though she was admittedly "cute", just not in a conventional sense), and not in the way that he felt like cheating on his girlfriend or kissing her or anything like that, but in the way that, although he barely knew this girl, he felt so drawn to her. Enough to walk her home after a single conversation. Enough to make plans with a girl he barely met.

He let out a breath into the frost-scented night. His head felt like he'd just taken a hard tackle without a helmet, but he guessed that he had time to sort all of this out in his head before Friday. A mile or so more, and he was back to his bike and back to pounding the pavement for every last buck he could scrape up, the girl with the pink rubber boots still fresh in his mind.


	2. Strangers Sitting on a Park Bench

_Thanks for the reviews and for reading! Haha. Keep 'em coming and I'll keep the chapters coming! Another thanks to MezMaroon5 for Beta'ing for me. (:_

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><p>"So then Kurt told her that she did it again, he'd lock her up in his closet, if there was room!"<p>

Rachel burst out into giggles, a foot hooked around one of the legs of the bench as if she might fall off otherwise, and her hands tucked into her lap casually.

"And Kurt's the dude who's not in the wheelchair, right?" Finn squinted a little as he tried to remember the information she was spewing.

Finn wasn't known for his listening skills, as Rachel was quickly picking up. She was talking less and less and asking more questions as the day went on, but he was doing pretty well if you asked him. He remembered half of the Glee Club members' names, and he could probably recite the story about Tina's birthday party by memory. And the weirdest part? Finn was enjoying himself.

Finn had taken a seat on the bench earlier that day while waiting for her. He'd gotten out of work beforehand, which is why he'd planned it for that time, and he was wearing some of the nicest clothes he owned. A nice striped polo and some jeans- he thought it looked relatively nice. But he'd been quickly blown away by how Rachel looked. Unlike her usual clothes, which could have been borrowed by his grandmother (he was half expecting her to hand him some diebetic candy), she was wearing some seriously classy threads. Her shirt was silk and her pencil skirt was casual yet classy, and she wore these shoes that he was sure were bought from some brand he couldn't pronounce. Her hair was done into the usual perfect ringlets at the end, and her eyes were bright and stunning... He didn't actually recognize her until she took a seat next to him. He almost asked her to move because he was waiting for someone, but then did a double take.

"Finn?" She had asked uncertainly, clearly remembering him but confused at the look he had on. He must have had the most blown away expression on right then.

"Uh... Er..." He said before snapping into his senses and remembering to keep up a cool appearance. He shook his head a little. "Sorry... You just look different than I remembered."

Rachel nodded with a smile, seemingly understanding of his shock. "Oh, yes. I thought since we were meeting that I should try to look nice. My fathers have been urging me to try to expand my wardrobe lately, and I thought this was the perfect excuse to try on some of the clothes that I bought in Europe when we visited this year... Have you ever been?"

"... To Europe?" He repeated. She nodded, as if that was the most casual thing in the world to ask. He had never even met a person who went to Europe, let alone had been more than once. He couldn't help but continue to be taken aback by that. He stared blankly back at her for a second longer before shaking his head. "Uh, no." She didn't seem to care, but it felt like a blow to the stomach.

"Oh. Well, France is a lovely country. I highly suggest it for a vacation." She smiled lightly and nodded her head before shifting so that her back touched the back of the bench, and looked over to him. Her eyes searched his for a second before she added, "Have you lived in Lima your whole life?"

Finn didn't like this- talking about his homelife. He did his best to avoid it. "Not in Lima... But Ohio, yeah." he replied vaguely, but truthfully, quickly brushing it off and moving to a new topic.

They talked for hours. Literally, hours. They sat there on that bench, people-watching and talking about their own lives, however descriptive as they wanted to be. They asked each other questions. They spoke about what they loved, what they hated, who bugged them, who they admired.

Finn learned that Rachel Berry was born in New York City, but that her parents had moved to Lima when she was a baby, so she didn't remember much of living in the big city. They owned an apartment there that they used for months at a time, and it overlooked Broadway, which Rachel seemed to be a little compulsive about. They also had timeshares around the world. He didn't know what her dads did for a living, but he guessed that it ought to rake in enough cash, by all of the nice things she seemed to describe. He also learned that she loved animals but her fathers were allergic and refused to have them, that she hated watermelon but loved watermelon sherbert, and that she found the music by Ke$ha extremely lacking of talent and expression, though it had become very popular over the last year or so. He learned about her when she was little, he learned about where she wanted to be years from now, and he learned about her worst fears. He learned about her Glee club friends- Kurt, the diva dude, Artie, the wheelchair guy who played more video games than he did, Tina, the goth girl who he remembered scared him when he passed her in the halls a few weeks earlier, and Mercedes, the chick with the voice hotter than the sun, who was almost as much of a drama queen as Rachel could be.

Rachel learned much less. She learned about his favorite flavour of pizza, his favorite color, his favorite baseball, football, soccer, basketball, and hockey teams and he had to explain why he liked just about every sport, because she didn't seem to get his love for them. She learned about how when he was a kid, he broke his arm by falling off a jungle gym, and she learned about some of his friends who were jocks, though he left a lot of that stuff out, since she seemed to have picked a lot of that up from rumors, gossip, and just the talk of the town. She learned about how much he loved apple pie and how he hated his Chemistry teacher. That was about it. She pushed questions about his family, but he usually just gave honest, one word answers, and moved on quickly to ask her something else. He knew by then that talking wasn't something she could easily refuse, and it was pretty easy to get her off topic.

Neither of them got the least bit uninterested in the conversation, but Finn had to admit that as time went on, he was paying attentiont to words less and less.

He didn't realize how pretty she was before. He was too busy concentrating on her life and her conversation than he was on her appearance, but now that he took it in, he noticed that despite her nose (he didn't even really mind it, but he could see how other people might have thought it was odd), she was just stunning. She had those big brown eyes and that delicious looking olive skin... She was exotic. From the distance he was sitting, he could smell the perfume she was wearing; it smelled like honey. Her hair was done up nice, and he could tell that even if she didn't do it herself, it'd still look cute... It wasn't that he didn't think that she was pretty before she dolled herself up. He wasn't like that... It was just a surprise to see her like this, and to say that her looks weren't hidden behind quirky clothes would have been a bit of a lie.

He knew after a moment of staring at the way her skirt inched up her thigh as she shifted in her seat that he shouldn't have been thinking about all of this. She wasn't his, and he wasn't hers... Yet his eyes continued to study her appearance, as she was much too concentrated on her story about how Mr. Schue had tried to make them sing and dance to disco tunes earlier that year. When she glanced over to tell the punchline, his eyes quickly darted up to hers, and he faked a laugh, nodding his head and putting on a smile for her benefit. She seemed to have bought it.

By the time Finn glanced at his watch, it was already getting darker out. The sun was painting patterns of reds and oranges across the sky which were visible through the gaps between leaves, though trees spread across the park like a blanket, and he knew that they both should get home before they were bathed in darkness. He paused. "Rach?"

"Yes?" She asked, and he realized that he'd used a nickname, though he hadn't meant to.

"It's getting kind of late. We might wanna get going home... Do you have a ride?" He asked. He was planning on taking the bus home himself, since that's how he got there. He had a few tokens stowed away in his pocket, always handy around here.

"Yes, I do. Paul ought to be here in a few minutes."

"Paul?" He repeated, not recognizing the name. "One of your dads?"

"No, my driver." She said.

_Driver_. He wanted to just collapse right there or yell or something. This just got worse and worse as time went on, didn't it? He felt more and more drawn to her, yet it was more and more apparent that they were on absolute opposite spectrums of the economic scale. She was bathing in cash, or so it seemed, and Finn was trying to scoop up any he could find. Some cheaper boys might have felt drawn to her because of the money, but Finn wasn't like that. He'd rather she had less money, actually, because that'd mean they were more even... Was that wrong? Was that a selfish way of thinking?

Finn's head hurt again, as it did the night he first met her.

"I'll hang around until he comes by then," Finn finally said, and she nodded her head. He wondered what she thought about all of this, why she kept taking chances on him, trusting him with things she shouldn't have trusted a complete stranger with. He wondered why she kept all of this to herself with the middle-class clothing at school. She might have been as popular as him if she just let people know that she had a driver... Didn't she take the same bus as him? And she got slushied constantly... It was funny- they'd been talking about her for hours, yet she was still a complete mystery to him.

After a few moments of silence, Finn was about to look over at Rachel when she leaned over in a bolt to kiss his cheek as quickly as humanly possible. Instead, because of the movement he'd made, her nose went bouncing off of his with a groan and a grunt and they both shot back with their hands on their faces. "I'm so sorry," She mumbled through her hands.

"What just... Ahh..." Finn squinted his eyes shut as he let what just happened sink in.

"I just.. I had a good time tonight. People don't hang out with me often." She explained quietly.

Finn let his hand go back down to his side as the pain died down. He didn't ask why not; she did seem like she could be a little abrasive and hard to deal with if he was being completely honest. He didn't mind, but he could see how other people might. She seemed sweet though, deep down.

"I had a good time too. You're pretty cool, Rach." He smiled lightly, his nose twitching at the feeling.

She smiled wide in response, and leaned in to press a tender kiss to his cheek. He blushed, and immediately felt embarassed by the rosy color that crossed his freckled cheeks.

"Thank you."

"Of course." He replied quietly, and his eyes flickered up to hers, minimal space between them before.

Suddenly, they were inturrupted by a honking horn. Finn's eyebrows pulled together and he let out an exhale.

"I think that's your driver, ribght?" He didn't even want to see what type of car he was driving, in the fear that he'd just feel more inferior than he already did to the girl.

She looked over his shoulder and nodded her head, looking down to her shoes with a disappointed expression crossing her features. It was probably all for the better though... What he had with Quinn, though really generic and mostly just for looks, was comfortable. It was easy... She didn't intimidate him (unless she yelled, which she did sometimes), and she didn't expect much out of him, which was pretty cool. Sure, he didn't feel as drawn towards her as he did towards Rachel Berry... But that wasn't the point.

"I'll see you around?" He suggested, licking a lip as she backed up and composed herself.

He leaned back himself, glancing around before getting his footing.

"Yes. Definitely." She replied, and smiled at him one last time before starting off to her car.

He looked at her until the last second he could (before the car came into view), and then let out an exhale. He was in some deep, deep shit feeling-wise. He needed to get this together. He nodded his head once before starting to walk home with his hands buried into his pockets. He was to spend another confused night awake, except this time, he also had the extra baggage of finding Rachel Berry extremely attractive when she wanted to be... Fuck, he thought. I'm a perv. A slightly ashamed look crossed his face.

He might need to buy some tissues too.


	3. The Consequences of Neglect

_Again, thank you to MezMaroon5 for reading over for me. (; Some tense Fuinn communication problems in this chapter (Rachel's actually absent, minus Finn's thoughts about her). Language! As usual, reviews are **so** appreciated. (:_

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><p>"We need to talk."<p>

Those were not words that Finn wanted to hear, to say the least. He blinked as he was dragged inside of the Fabray household by one of Quinn's petite hands, while the other was rested on her hip in a dominent sort of way. Finn's eyebrows pulled together, and he shook his head as if that would clear the cobwebs from his brain. "Talk?" He repeated, looking up to her with a confused expression.

Finn and Quinn had the usual relationship. They were just about the most average couple you could find. He liked her because she was nice (to him, you know, sometimes), popular, and pretty, and she liked him because he was handsome, nice enough, and popular as well. They were expected to date, and so they did... And it worked out well, because they got along most of the time. She was a good kisser and she didn't ask for gifts for every occasion, and she just.. He didn't know. He liked her a bit, but maybe not for the best reasons.

It was a reliable, easy relationship, and probably one of the only ones he thought he could juggle right then, to be perfectly honest.

But he was wrong.

"Yes, talk." She didn't sound amused. She put on an icy smile before adding, "About us."

It quickly disappeared as Finn did a double take. "What about us?"

She rolled her eyes a little. "Well, what's wrong? What do you not see that's wrong with us, Finn? Because I have to tell you, I can't take much more of this."

A small spark of disappointment crossed her face, and that was just about the only emotion other than fury that he could detect. Quinn wasn't the easiest person to figure out, and Finn wasn't the most observent person in the world to begin with. His facial features softened a little bit as he realized that she was serious about whatever she wanted to talk about. He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced down at his shoes, straightening out his jaw before looking back up to her.

The problem with Quinn is that you never really knew where you stood with her. She had this way about her; a shield. He knew that deep down, there was a girl he could accidentally break, but on the outside, there was a hard shell that he just couldn't seem to see past. She put on that icy stare for onlookers, because it showed her authority. It made her look strong, tough, or at least, that's why he thought she acted like that. And it worked to scare most people off, but not him. He always thought that there was more to her than that.

"What? What have I done? Did I like, forget an anniversary or something? I'll make it up to-"

"No, Finn! It's not a stupid anniversary." She interrupted him harshly and briskly shook her head, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she did.

She paused for a moment, her eyes boring into his scull before she said in a more irritated way, "Are you seriously this clueless? Is it that subtle?"

"Listen, Quinn, you can't expect me to fix something if I don't even know what's wrong. I thought we've been cool!" He exclaimed, his eyes falling as he got exasparated.

He felt like he could never do anything right when he was around Quinn sometimes. Sure, they definitely had their good times. Usually, they were good for each other... But sometimes? When Quinn was pissed with him, she was pissed with him. And it aggravated him to no end that he just couldn't figure out what was wrong until she told him, and he was pretty sure that irritated her too.

"Really?" Her words cut like razors. "Finn, we haven't hung out in weeks. Weeks."

Finn's eyes glazed over as he thought about the last time they'd spoken. Sure, he sent her a text once in a while, but that didn't really count. He had work every day of the week plus Sunday, and on Saturday, he was usually too exhausted to do much. He spent his one day of the week off sleeping and trying to finish all of the homework he'd neglected to do over the week... And then Quinn came into play. Except he hadn't seen her in... Two weeks. She was right.

"Weeks..." was all he could force out of his mouth.

"Yes, Finn. We haven't been together out of classes in weeks."

"But we see each other between classes sometimes..." Finn started, but his voice quickly drifted off, and Quinn continued, still standing up tall in her usual cheerios uniform.

"The last time we spoke was four days ago when classes were breaking and we passed each other in the halls. You never ask me out on dates, you never invite me to your house.. I've never even been to your house! I don't even know where you live! I get the whole 'mystery-man' facade you have going on, but I thought that if you were going to let anyone in, it would be me. And I thought that after months of dating, you'd at least give me a clue about who you are. I've never met your family... You never even talk about your family! How am I supposed to know if you're even being faithful to me if all we ever do is talk about what we had for breakfast or how cheerleading practice was? How am I supposed to trust someone I don't even know? I tell you everything. You've met my parents, you've been in my room... We make out. You have to understand that, with my religion and my status, that's not something I do with just anyone. And I don't want to feel this way about someone who's keeping all of these... These secrets!" By the end, her voice sounded worn and tight.

Finn stared back blankly, and then ran a hand through his hair.

"Quinn." He started, but thats as far as he got.

He couldn't just tell her that he'd been blowing her off to go to work.. And to meet this new Rachel girl. He didn't know how she'd react to his financial troubles, and he didn't want to find out.

"I just... Listen, okay, I have reasons for being... Distant. But I just... I can't tell you."

She didn't let up any. Her eyes still bored into him. It seemed like she trusted him just as little as he trusted her, because she didn't buy that answer one bit. Her eyes fell to the floor, and he glanced around as he tried to find some sort of distraction. Her house seemed just as ordinary as usual, and he, as usual, didn't see a thing out of place. The religious paintings and knick knacks were still scattered throughout the livingroom tastefully, all matching the ornate wallpaper, and Jesus was still staring him down from his usual place on the wall.

"Well, then I see where we stand." Quinn's voice got quieter than it usually was, and it sounded broken.

"I'm sorry," He replied softly, looking back up to her.

To say that he didn't care about the girl would be a blatant lie. To say that he had feelings for her would be a lie too. But... He couldn't trust her with something like that. If that got out, everything he had would be moot. He couldn't sacrifice any more. Even for her.

"I'm sorry too," She shook her head, a deep frown making its way onto those bubblegum lips. She didn't look as pretty when she was sad. "But... I'm giving you two options here."

Finn looked up slightly. He felt his stomach do flips as she continued to suck in a breath and then speak again.

"You can tell me what you've been hiding.. I'll be as understanding as possible. We'll work through it..." She paused. "Or you can get out of my house. Don't speak to me anymore. I don't want anything to do with someone who doesn't want anything to do with me."

He could hear the insecurity in her voice, as much as she tried to hide it. Her eyes went back to his, and she looked to him expectantly.

Finn hesitated. He hesitated for a long while. Too long, apparently, because before long Quinn let out a sigh and looked down to the ground. He bit the inside of his cheek as she looked back up to him with a disappoined gaze. He'd made in clear which option he chose, even though he remained in silence. His eyes bored into one of the tiles of her floor, and his lips made a straight line as he looked back up to her.

The next words stung like sandpaper. "We're through."

Finn couldn't explain to her how betrayed he felt. Sure, he knew that in light of the situation, she felt betrayed too... But he just felt stabbed in the back. They were through. Through. T-H-R-O-U-G-H. He'd never been dumped in his entire life, and now he was for something he knew he couldn't help other than to completely put himself on the spot and lose every bit of pride he had left. He didn't want her to feel sorry for him- pity him and take him back. That wasn't him. He was supposed to be the guy everyone looked up to, not the poor soul everyone seemed to pity. His eyebrows pulled together further, and he let out a distressed sigh. By the time he looked back up to her, he had a hard, unreadable expression across his face.

"Fine," He replied in an indignant growl. "We're through."

He put his hands up in defeat and stormed out of the door, wasting no time in starting back to his house.

Damn her, he thought to himself bitterly as he stomped across the pavement of the suburban streets. Damn her for making him feel like this. Damn him for letting them slip through the cracks. Damn him for making her look like that; he swore the girl was on the verge of tears, and he knew for a fact that he had never and probably would never see Quinn cry. She felt betrayed by him, and in turn he felt betrayed by her... But she couldn't know. Nobody could know. Ever. It wasn't something he was ready to share.

"Fucking damn it!" Finn exclaimed, kicking a streetlight's pole and grunting in pain immediately afterwards.

Things had started to look up since he met Rachel. He had more energy. He felt a little more optimistic... Sure, he didn't like that he felt like she was far too good for someone like him, but he tried his best to push that aside. She made him feel good.. Understood. And he liked how there was still something there to figure out. And he swore that the last time they met up they were on the verge of something. Their faces had been close, and he swore that her eyes had flickered down to his lips just as his had hers... But then all of this shit happened, thanks to him, his pride, and the stupid situation at hand that he was forced to deal with because of the family he was born into.

Don't get him wrong, he loved his mom. He loved his family, all of them.. It just got frustrating sometimes. He wondered why he was one of the kids that had to deal with this. Of course, being the modest, polite boy he usually was, he usually pushed that aside and at least pretended that he was alright, that he didn't mind working to try to help out his mom. He just got overwhelmed sometimes. His grades were going down the tube, his girlfriend was no longer his girlfriend, and he just... He wanted to just yell, as if that'd help anything.

His voice continued to trail profanities as he walked through the streets, his shoes kicking up dirt and mud from the ground, and he knew that later, he would be pissed that he'd gotten dirt on his pantlegs because of the fact that he had to help his mom wash them off, but for now, he was too pissed off to care.

The funny part was that he knew he was mostly responsible for deciding not to tell her. He didn't even know who he was pissed at.

Not Quinn- it hadn't been her fault.

Mostly himself, he guessed. Fate. It didn't stop his temper though.

The streets seemed colder and darker than they'd seemed when he'd taken the bus to Quinn's house. Being athletic and from the same town, instead of taking the bus back, he decided to walk. Maybe by the time he got home, he wouldn't have that feeling of his throat getting tighter and tighter by the second, or the feeling of his breath getting huskier due to the stress. His mom didn't need to see him like that. She had enough to worry about.

And when he would arrive, he'd put on a forced smile of a worn out soldier as he walked through the squeaky screen door. "Hey mom," he'd say in a faux casual tone, wiping off his shoes before stepping into the make-shift-home of a house.


	4. Through the Palace Doors

Over the weeks, things progressed as normally as Finn could expect. He'd see Rachel more and more. Once a week or so, he'd skip from work to see her. He knew that he shouldn't have, but he always convinced himself by the time he'd made plans. They absolutely always went to public, free places. Twice to the park, once to the schoolyard, once to the beach... But they never went out to eat, out to go bowling, or anything else where Finn would have to pay. Rachel probably thought he was cheap by then, since she was used to all the special treatment... But she didn't seem to mind. She commented sometimes about how she liked how Finn could enjoy "the simple things," whatever that meant.

Every time they hung out, Rachel would wear the expensive, name brand clothes. She'd look like something out of a fashion magezine, and Finn would continue to be absentminded and in awe around her. She'd continue to giggle at his lame jokes or miswordings, and he'd continue to put on a half-grin at her stories or her casually dramatic attitude. Even though they'd known each other for such a little time, and they still had a lot of unanswered questions about one another, they felt like best friends. That was, until about their seventh or eighth get-together.

It was at her house on a lazy wednesday afternoon. He'd walked her home, and she'd invited him inside to have a drink of water.

"You look parched!" She exclaimed with an overdramatic look at his slightly chapped lips. When she said stuff like that, her eyes always got a little bit wider, and her deep brown irises seemed to get five times bigger than they were previously.

"I'm really okay... But sure." Finn had agreed, extremely curious as to what her house looked like on the inside. She took his hand to lead him inside, but he walked slower than she did to take all of his surroundings in.

Until then, her house had been mostly a mystery to him. She didn't seem to hide it or anything, but she didn't seem too keen to invite him over either. He didn't think it had to do with him, since they still met up a lot, but maybe herself. He didn't look too far into it, but he had to admit, he wondered why she wasn't eager to show off its contents.

The knob to the door was polished crystal. It looked almost antique-like, but definitely not in the way that it was damaged or dirty; just ornate. It seemed to be just about the only thing like that in the house though. As soon as he stepped into the door, it was like entering a museum or a fancy hotel. Everything was modern. The seats were curvy and simple white at the island bar, and everything seemed to be from the same designer brand- even the lights that hung by tasteful chains over the kitchen. The floors were all tiled and beautiful and matching, of course, and not a thing seemed out of place. Even the faucets looked fancy. The couches looked uncomfortable, yet tasteful as well... Just not worn in, like he would have been used to, so he thought they must have been much less "familiar to your butt".

He swollowed his breath as he looked around him. He felt her eyes studying his every reaction, but he couldn't change the way that his eyes clung to every object of the room jut a little bit longer than they should have.

"We're redecorating," She spoke, and pointed to a section of the house he didn't even seem to notice, where there was a spare ladder laid against the wall.

"Oh." Finn replied, but it didn't sound the least bit less in awe, like she might have expected it to be after that.

He stood there for a second longer before Rachel rushed into the kitchen to neatly pick out a glass from the counter and then fill it with the tap water and a few ice cubes. After finishing it off with a slice of lemon, which he'd insisted he was fine without, she handed the drink to him with a smile. He smiled half-heartedly back before taking a sip.

Even the water tasted better.

He let out an exasparated breath that he hoped just looked like had enjoyed his drink.

"Why do you live in Lima?" Finn asked before he knew what had slipped out of his lips- it almost sounded critical, the way he said it. He felt his face go white immediately after, and he scratched the back of his head. "You don't have to answer that. Sorry; it slipped out."

Rachel shook her head a little, not missing a beat. "No, it's fine. My dads wanted me to experience life in a small town, like they had growing up... They know I'd rather be in the city, but they think this is best for me, big-city-future or not. It's not that I want to be here... Trust me, I argue with them about it constantly." Rachel's eyebrows pulled together, but then nodded a little, adding quieter. "They know what's best, I assume."

Finn nodded his head in understanding, though he was still confused. It's not like she was living the 'small town life' with all of this fancy stuff anyways... What was it supposed to teach her? Maybe it was just a misguided attempt at shaping her into a more rounded person... Which, well, she wasn't. If there was thing that Rachel Berry was, it wasn't rounded. Music and her future were two of the only things she thought about, and since she'd ask a simple boy him about if he'd been to Europe or whether he owned a yaght or not, it was clear that she knew of only the small section of the world she lived in. He wasn't her fathers though, so he guessed that he couldn't argue. He just shrugged a little. "I'm sorry."

Rachel shrugged herself. "It's alright." She put on a small smile, shaking off the sore topic as she looked back down at her shoes. After a second, she looked back up to him with a more quizical expression. "Why do _you_ live here?"

"Me?" Finn repeated, looking a little confused.

"Yes, you." She giggled a little. "Who else?"

"I just... I don't know." He laughed a little, half-heartedly. "Where else would I live?"

That simple response seemed to facinate Rachel, since she thought just the opposite. She wanted to live anywhere but, and this is the only place that she couldn't see a reason to stay at. After a second or two more, she picked up his hand in her own again. "Let's go upstairs. I want to show you my room." She smiled, and he felt his heart beat a little bit harder in his chest as he put on a smile of his own.

Him and Rachel weren't dating. In fact, besides the occasional hand-holding, they were as platonic as could be, even after all the half-dates they went on. But it didn't take much of her accidental advances to make him sweat.

"Okay, sure." Finn nodded as she took him up the rounded staircase by the hand. He knew which room was hers immediately because of the golden star on her door. Her heels made little clicking noises against the polished wood floors before she pulled the door open, and Finn smiled a little. The room was so Rachel it was a little ridiculous.

It was pink. Very, very pink. The only traces of white were the frame of the bed, the dresser, and the door. The rest of the room was colored with the same petal pink with little accents of yellow and a creamy orange color. There was a speaker system set up, along with a cordless microphone on the sidetable next to her bed. Two bean bag chairs sat in front of it, which Rachel quickly took a seat in, her ankles crossed and her knees bent to keep her skirt from riding up too high on her thighs. There was a small skylight. Everything was modern, elegant, and ... Perfectly Rachel.

"This room's sick," Finn looked up at the sun shining through the window on the curved roof of her room, and he sat back onto the bean bag next to hers, before looking to where she sat next to him with a cheeky grin.

"I thought it'd be a little too girly for your tastes," She admitted, a small polite smile adorning her lips as their eyes met.

"Well, yeah. I mean, maybe not for me, but its so perfect for you. It's very... Pink" Finn replied, leaning back in his seat, which just inched him closer to her, and she smiled, leaning forward on an arm to make up the space between them as well. "I couldn't imagine Princess Rachel having anything less."

"Princess Rachel?" She asked with a hint of playfulness in her voice, as those brown eyes shone.

Finn nodded his head. "Of course. I mean, look at your house... At you. You could totally pass as a princess. Not to mention now you wear all of these fancy shmancy clothes... Why not?" He scratched the back of his head, noticing his voice getting a little more nervous as he realized the space between them decreasing by the minute.

"I think being a princess has to do more than just with the clothes you wear and where you live," Rachel replied with a more serious tone.

"Well yeah, I know that too. Rach, come on. You're like, awesome- don't act like you don't know that already. Coolest princess ever." By then, she seemed to notice the space gone between them too. She was starting to lean forward into him, and his eyes fell down to her lips as he finally made a move. He leaned forward as a hand rounded her cheek, capturing her lips in a chaste kiss. His heart felt like it might burst out of his chest with the way it was beating so rapidly, and if he didn't know any better, he'd think that his brain was filled with helium.

When they pulled away, Finn was smiling stupidly, and Rachel had a similar small smile on her own face. They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but then Finn shut it as Rachel spoke.

"That was nice." She murmured, smiling softly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, it was," Finn responded with a nod, trying to keep his smile to himself. He looked around the room as some sort of distraction from the way his breath had gained speed at just that small touch.

Rachel looked to him with an at-ease smile set onto her features, and Finn smiled back, but at the same time, he knew that eventually she'd ask what they were. Hell, he was wondering what they were. Best friends? Of course. But... Well, she was right. It had been nice. He wouldn't mind that kiss happening again once or twice or a hundred times over.

But then there was the entire reason he broke up with Quinn. Shit. He didn't want to drift off... Ignore her like he did with his last relationship. He knew that he still had to work and that he still had responsibilities to his family... He didn't want to break Rachel's heart, and he didn't want himself to take on too much so that everything came crashing down around him. His face went white. He was sure Rachel noticed, because she got nervous herself, probably thinking that he lied about the kiss being alright or that he was having second thoughts. Soon, out of instinct and nervous energy (to the point that they both thought they might explode if one of them didn't blurt out something), Rachel finally broke the silence with a bang.

"We should go out"

She let out a nervous giggle, having clearly never been kissed, let alone gone out with a boy before. He stared at her for a second as he tried to gather his thoughts. As he'd thought when he'd just met her, this Rachel girl was different than the other girls here, and he didn't think he'd be the littlest bit interested in her if she was anything ordinary. If he was going to make it with anyone in this place, he'd be able to make it with her. He really, really liked her... And even though he definitely had some hesitation due to Quinn and the break-up he went through only weeks before, Finn couldn't help but let a small smile settle on his lips before he replied;

"Absolutely."

The funny part was that his popularity was the last thing on his mind, and probably the first thing Rachel thought would be a problem for them.

She smiled wider in return and leaned back closer to him. He let his other arm rest behind her as he leaned in for another kiss, getting more used to the idea of his lips against hers by the minute. After few seconds, Rachel pulled away and looked back up to him with an innocent sparkle in her eye.

"You should meet my dads, though," She said in just a little above a whisper.

Finn's eyes went wide at that. Dads. He knew that Rachel had gay dads, and the gay part wasn't what the had a problem with.. it was the fact that now, instead of one intimidating dad, he had to face... Two. He forced on a smile he knew, by the sympathetic smile that crossed her face, she didn't even believe.

"They're not so bad. They'll like you, I think. They like authenticity and gentlemanliness... Both of which you have." She smiled.

He felt like he was going to be sick. He knew what the word "authentic," meant, and he didn't fit that description in the slightest as of right then.

"I donno... I mean, shouldn't we wait a bit? Until we're... Settled? I think meeting the parents is a little... Serious," He explained, shaking his head a little.

"Finn... Please? This means a lot to me. They'll love you!" She laughed a little, but the seriousness in her tone remained. He looked back up to her, but the fake smile disappeared.

"Yeah... Okay. Sure. I'll do it... Over dinner, maybe?" He suggested politely, though his tone sounded worn out and exhausted.

"Sure," She smiled, nodding her head. "I think they'll want to dress up if that's the case, though. They like any excuse to wear a good suit."

His heart continued to sink and sink and sink the more she spoke. He felt like this entire secret he had about his background was eating him up, and like if he didn't spill soon, this would all collapse in on him.

"So, how about this Saturday. We'll settle out the rest of the details over the week." She smiled wider.

He couldn't help but let the sides of his lips curve up just a hint as he saw hers, but he couldn't even try to pull off an actual smile. Her lips met his again, and he leaned forward to meet her the slightest bit.

"Thank you," She murmured into the kiss. It sounded honest and lovely, and Finn knew that the tone would be in the death in him if he ever wanted anything he couldn't give her.

He exhaled before replying.

"Of course, Princess."


End file.
